


positions

by venvephe



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Autofellatio, Banter, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Fingerfucking, First Time, Flexibility, Friends to Lovers, Gratuitous Smut, Johnny's really into it and so am I, M/M, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Size Difference, an ode to Ten's unreal flexibility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:21:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29811120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venvephe/pseuds/venvephe
Summary: “But...” Ten says slowly, gently squeezing Johnny’s hand in his, “we could, you know.”Johnny’s heart nearly stops - only to kick in his chest, a surge running through his veins at those exact words from Ten’s lips. “Could what?”“We could go back to yours,” Ten says, looking up at Johnny and holding his gaze. His eyes go half-lidded, his lips twitching into another smirk. “I could give you thatdemonstration.”
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 17
Kudos: 187





	positions

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a fun, smutty something for Ten's birthday and, uh. Sorry it's late, Ten. Neither you nor Johnny wanted to stop, and several thousand unplanned words later, here we are. It sure did end up _smutty,_ all right. Happy late birthday, baby 😘
> 
> All my love to andreanna and m_writes, who are the best cheerleaders and friends out there - from listening to me vent my horny, horny thoughts and yelling about the various bits I teased them with for, like, a whole calendar month. Also to my lovely writer friends and followers on twitters - sorry for all the redacted feral tweeting as I wrote this. Well, maybe I'm not that sorry, given how this fic came out. Horny and tender is probably my calling card. Anyway!
> 
> A quick note: there's some social drinking at the start of this story, but both Johnny and Ten are mostly sober and totally, enthusiastically consenting by the time... you know ;) 
> 
> Title from the Ariana Grande song of the same name. Enjoy!

All things considered, it starts out innocently enough:

They’re out to dinner, a fairly small group of them, talking and laughing and drinking together for the first time in what feels like forever. It’s comfortable and a little boisterous - how could it _not_ be - and there’s a constant stream of good-natured teasing around the table.

Maybe that’s why it’s not very strange, when Mark holds up a shrimp that he’s fished out of his meal for the table to see and says, “Look, it’s Ten-hyung!”

Johnny looks up at the immediate chorus of laughter, taking in the pleased grin on Mark’s face and the way Taeyong has hunched over his bowl, giggling into his fist. Ah - must be a SuperM thing, if Yuta’s similarly confused expression is anything to go by.

“Do I even want to know?” Johnny nudges Ten’s foot with his own under the table, raising his eyebrows at Ten’s knowing smile. He’s already pretty flushed from the soju, but at Mark’s joke Ten’s ears have gone pink, too.

“Yeah, c’mon, share with the class,” Yuta jumps in, his grin going shark-like at the barest hint of an embarrassing story.

Taeyong’s too busy giggling, but Mark smiles wide. “While we were filming for SuperM the other day, Ten-hyung showed us that he can bend like a shrimp! Like, _so_ far -”

“Mark, baby, don’t play with your food,” Ten scolds playfully, using his chopsticks to snag the shrimp out of Mark’s grip and shove it into his own mouth before Mark can react. He smirks around his mouthful, chewing. “Just _eat_ it.”

“ _Hyung,”_ Mark whines, distracted - but Lucas picks up where he left off.

“It was _crazy,”_ Lucas says, eyes wide in that surprised, puppy-like way of his. “The rest of us couldn’t bend nearly as far as that - even Taeyong-hyung, and he’s a main dancer, too!”

Taeyong laughs his high, tittering laugh, blushing at Lucas’s praise. “Ten’s always been more flexible than me, that’s not a surprise. Even as trainees.”

“It’s not a competition, hyung,” Ten says, resting his chin on one hand. He’s got that glimmer in his eyes - the one that Johnny’s come to associate with _trouble_.

“It totally was, and you totally won,” Mark grumbles good-naturedly. He jabs at the food on his plate, shaking his head. “I don’t know how you did it - I can bend forward and pretty much touch my toes, but to curl and bend _back -”_

Johnny pauses, mid-chew.

Bend _back?_ Somehow, he hadn't realized that they were talking about Ten bending -

“Backward? Now this I gotta see,” Yuta grins. He bats at Mark’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Didn’t any of you take pictures?”

“No, we were just goofing off during a break in filming the music video,” Taeyong says, then tilts his head as he thinks. "Though maybe someone caught it for the behind-the-scenes footage."

Somehow, Yuta's smirk only grows wider. "Well, if he won so handily, I don't see why Ten can't just give us a demonstration."

Johnny glances over to Ten - only to find that Ten's already looking at him, eyes undeniably dark over the rim of his glass. Their gazes lock; Johnny’s breath catches in his chest, unbidden.

A _demonstration._

Maybe it’s the couple of beers he’s had - or the subtle, coy tilt of Ten’s head - or the word _demonstration,_ but Johnny is absolutely helpless to the images that flood into his mind’s eye. Ten, bent forward to rest his elbows on the floor in a deep split stretch at practice; Ten, on all fours, back arched seductively as he looks over his shoulder at Johnny; Ten, hands wrapped around the backs of his muscular thighs to hold himself in position, his feet over his head, giving Johnny that _smirk_ that he knows makes Johnny -

_Fuck._ Johnny clears his throat and breaks Ten’s gaze, certain that his thoughts must show on his reddening face. Hopefully he can blame it on the booze - though it seems the group is distracted, anyways.

Because the _real_ Ten in front of him licks his lips when he puts down his cup, looking around the table. Everyone's attention has centered on him, the conversation paused as they wait for his answer.

“Well, not _here,”_ Ten rolls his eyes, cheeks flushing pink despite his bravado. “I’m not going to get on the floor and do a back-bend in a _restaurant.”_

Lucas whines in disappointment. “C’mon, Ten-hyung -”

“Coward,” Yuta says mildly, downing the rest of his soju in one shot.

Ten just laughs. “What, you really want me to put on a show? Ask me at practice sometime, when I’ve actually warmed up properly. We’ve been eating enough that if I tried something like that right now, I’d -”

“Okay, okay, you’ve got a point,” Mark groans. He pushes away from the table to pat at his belly - they’ve all been eating their weight in meat tonight.

And that’s not to mention the clutter of empty bottles surrounding their plates and bowls.

Johnny knows it would be easy to blame his thoughts on that - the thrum of alcohol in his blood, the too-warm atmosphere of the restaurant, the easy camaraderie between them that has loosened their tongues and brought down their walls. It’s such a rare treat to go out together like this when they’ve all been so busy - the guys in SuperM especially - that of course they’ve gone a little hard in enjoying themselves.

But if Johnny’s being honest with himself, he knows it’s not the booze. He doesn’t have any excuse for why his eyes keep lingering on Ten throughout the rest of the meal, taking in the healthy flush on Ten’s cheeks, snagging on the elegant twist of Ten’s wrist or the arch of his neck when he leans into Lucas, laughing.

When Ten catches Johnny watching, he doesn't look away.

Something in Johnny’s stomach clenches, but not unpleasantly. There’s a dark heat to Ten’s gaze, a spark of flirtatious curiosity. But Ten doesn’t say anything - even with as much soju as Johnny’s seen Ten drink tonight, he doesn’t call Johnny out on his staring.

Johnny knows his best friend well enough to predict what’s coming: Ten’s just waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce.

So it’s not a surprise that when they’re finally slipping on their jackets and exiting the restaurant, a lean arm loops through Johnny’s, warm fingers gripping the inside of his elbow right over his tattoo.

Ten looks up at Johnny through his fringe of dark hair, giving him a seemingly-innocent smile. “Walk with me, hyung?”

Johnny shivers. The hand on his arm squeezes gently, though Ten’s expression doesn’t change. “Sure.”

They wait for the rest of the group to filter outside around them. Tipsy as he is, Taeyong does a decent job of rounding everyone up like a mother hen - even Lucas, who has a good nine centimeters over Taeyong and has _less_ control over his limbs when he’s this much to drink. They pour onto the sidewalk in a stumbling mass, laughing and shouting over each other to be heard.

Except Johnny and Ten, carefully quiet, in their own little bubble of tension that has yet to be popped.

Ten holds them still, until their group has moved past them; it’s all too easy to slip to the back of the pack, unnoticed by their friends. They follow a few paces behind the straggling Mark and Yuta, who can’t seem to keep up with the others because of their constant giggling, despite Taeyong’s worried over-the-shoulder glances.

They’ve gone several blocks in companionable silence, observing the ruckus ahead of them, before Ten finally speaks. He smirks up at Johnny, bright-eyed in the dim streetlights. “So which part was it?”

Johnny swallows thickly. Is it dark enough that Ten won’t be able to notice his blush? Can Johnny blame _that_ , at least, on the beers he’s had tonight? “Which part about what?”

“Come _on,”_ Ten rolls his eyes, glancing forward at their rowdy group as he grins. “I caught you looking. I know something’s on your mind. So I’ll ask again - what is it?”

_Maybe you’re just pretty to look at,_ Johnny’s tipsy brain provides, and he strikes down the thought immediately - even if it _is_ true. “Maybe I just like to look.”

Fuck. That’s really not any better.

“Oh? And I’m what you chose to look at?” Ten chuckles, fitting himself more snugly against Johnny’s side. It’s not a particularly cold night - they’re all out in light jackets and sweatshirts - but the heat of him against Johnny’s shoulder is… nice. More than nice. “Are you forgetting that I’m your best friend and I know how to read you? _Especially_ after we’ve had a few drinks? Spill it, Johnny Suh.”

“Well,” Johnny starts, and then bites his lip. There’s _zero_ chance of him getting though this conversation and not fumbling it entirely, is there?

What is he supposed to say? _Just the thought of you bending backwards has sparked some seriously dirty thoughts about your person, and now I’m curious about how far you can bend and what you might look like with your legs over my shoulders and -_

“You’re blushing,” Ten points out, his smirk only growing. He sticks his tongue out from between his teeth. “Come on, you know I won’t judge.”

“You say that, but…” Johnny trails off, hyper-aware of the warmth in his face. Admitting this isn’t just telling Ten about the X-rated thoughts he’s had tonight. It brushes _far_ too close to saying the things that have been caught in Johnny’s chest for far longer than that.

He knows it’s superstition, but Johnny’s always believed that giving voice to his thoughts makes them more real.

There’s always been a little bit of tension between them, a little bit of _will we or won’t we?_ Teasing and flirting with Ten comes so naturally - and they’re best friends, which makes it so easy to fall into these habits.

They’re _best friends,_ which makes it so hard to risk it all by saying it out loud.

Because _we could, you know_ has been on the tip of Johnny’s tongue before. Maybe he’s just always on the precipice of saying it. Johnny would be a liar if he said he hadn’t thought about breaking the tension between them before tonight, liquor or no liquor, over the years that they’ve been friends.

Johnny can feel the warmth from the booze in his belly. Maybe tonight, it’s actually going to happen.

Ten’s steps slow to a stop. He pulls away from Johnny, until his fingers slide down to circle Johnny’s wrist. When he looks up at Johnny, his eyes are dark. “But what?”

_But it isn’t that simple._

That’s not what Johnny says. Instead he sighs, scratching a hand through his hair. “But you _are_ going to judge me.”

“Maybe,” Ten says, his eyebrows starting to rise. He bites his lip, like he’s holding back a smile; the expression looks entirely too impish. “Would you rather I guess? Because I already have a feeling that you can’t stop thinking about how _flexible_ I am -”

“ _Ten,”_ Johnny groans, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands - partly because Ten’s still got a grip around one of his wrists. He’s right on the money, of course. Does Ten really know him that well, or is Johnny _that_ predictable?

“Oh, come on, it’s not a big deal,” Ten giggles, pulling him along to walk again. The rest of their group is far ahead of them now, having kept meandering as the two of them stopped. They’re loud enough that even from two crosswalks behind, Johnny can still hear Yuta’s boisterous voice and Mark’s laughter.

“Maybe not to _you,”_ Johnny says, cheeks hot. “I don’t make a habit out of fantasizing about my friends.”

Ten’s eyes brighten with delight at Johnny’s admission. Shit _,_ he can never keep his mouth shut when he’s tipsy - not around Ten. “That’s boring of you, but okay. Are you saying that I’m the exception?”

Johnny nearly trips over his own feet. Fuck, fuck fuck. How is it that Ten can always see through to the core of him so easily?

He’s saved from having to answer by Ten’s soft chuckles. When Johnny glances down to him, Ten smiles and slips their hands together, lacing their fingers. “Really, it’s fine. Don’t think too hard about it - it’s normal to have those thoughts once in a while, right?”

Right. Once in a while. Once in a while it’s totally normal to have thoughts about bending your best friend across the nearest horizontal surface, imagining what his face looks like with his ankles over his head. It doesn’t have anything to do with the years of flirting, or the undercurrent of tension in their every conversation.

Or the heat that simmers in Ten’s eyes like - like he’s thinking about it, too.

Like right now.

“But...” Ten says slowly, gently squeezing Johnny’s hand in his, “we could, you know.”

Johnny’s heart nearly stops - only to kick in his chest, a surge running through his veins at those exact words from Ten’s lips. _We could, you know._

_We could._

“Could what?” Johnny asks, surprised at how steady his own voice sounds when it feels like his heart might pound through his ribs, drumming so hard he can hear his pulse in his ears.

“We could go back to yours,” Ten says, looking up at Johnny and holding his gaze. His eyes go half-lidded, his lips twitching into another smirk. “I could give you that _demonstration.”_

Johnny swallows thickly. A hot flush runs across his skin at Ten’s suggestion. It’s like every nerve in Johnny’s body is attuned to where they’re touching: Ten’s smaller hand in his, palm to palm, their forearms and shoulders brushing with every step they take.

Even in the faded orange streetlights, Ten can probably see that Johnny’s ears are getting as red as his face. God, their flirting usually doesn’t do this to him - then again, it’s not every day that Johnny is propositioned by his best friend.

His hot-as-fuck, _flexible-_ as-fuck best friend.

Johnny licks his lips. “A demonstration?”

Ten’s smirk is almost cat-like; he _must_ know that he has Johnny hooked. He flicks his hair out of his face, grinning. “Well, I could teach you, but I’d have to charge.”

In spite of himself - in spite of the building tension between them - Johnny lets out a surprised laugh. “Oh, god. Have you been listening to Mark’s 2000s playlist again?”

“You really wanna bring up Mark right now?” Ten counters, rolling his eyes. “Or do you wanna take me home so I can show you how flexible a _real_ dancer is?”

“A real dancer, huh?” Johnny tugs at their joined hands. Banter like this is familiar territory. “Big words. Is that a promise or a threat?”

Ten chuckles, but his eyes are dark when they lock on Johnny’s. “You’ll have to watch and find out, baby.”

Any witty response Johnny could have come up with catches in his throat - because there it is again, that reminder of the precipice they keep inching towards, making Johnny’s breath hitch. Every time he thinks he’s regained balance and found solid ground, Ten pushes them a little closer to the edge.

He’s not sure if it’s the pet name, or the promise of what’s to come, or just - _Ten_.

“Okay,” Johnny says, trying to keep his voice steady. So they’re doing this. Oh, god - they’re _doing_ this.

Ten smirks up at him, head tilted in amusement. “Okay. So take me home, Johnny.”

The rest of the walk back to the dorms is more or less a blur.

Johnny’s barely tipsy anymore by the time they get to the dorm, but Ten’s presence at his side is enough to keep him still feeling over-hot, hand clammy with nerves where their fingers are laced together. Ten doesn’t pull away as they enter the lobby and head for the elevator, even though any of their friends could come upon them here.

“Why back to mine?” Johnny asks, breaking the silence as he presses the elevator button for the fifth floor.

Ten just quirks an eyebrow at him. “Were you not paying attention? The rest of the boys decided to head up to the tenth floor to hang out some more.”

“Ah.” Johnny had absolutely not been paying attention - not with the dirty images of Ten swirling around in his head. “That’s… lucky for you.”

“Lucky for _us,”_ Ten corrects, grinning, and Johnny tries not to get distracted by the way Ten’s lips shape the word _us_ in the eight seconds it takes the elevator to arrive on his floor.

He fails, mostly - it’s Ten who tugs him along, leading him towards the fifth floor apartment by their linked hands. He gives Johnny a smirk over his shoulder that’s far too amused and knowing.

Ten’s gonna be the death of him, Johnny’s pretty sure.

The dorm is quiet when Johnny fumbles the door open, Ten’s nose brushing against his collarbones in a dizzying distraction - because god forbid they have anything approximating personal space even when they’re already holding hands. It’s not new, but it’s _different;_ Ten doesn’t hesitate to initiate skinship between them, but tonight it’s like he refuses to leave Johnny’s orbit.

At least - not when he can be a tease about it and drive Johnny _crazy_. It works, of course; Johnny nearly brains himself on the doorframe trying to get inside when Ten exhales against his neck, hot and unexpected.

Ten snickers at the look Johnny shoots him, pink-cheeked and flustered. But he keeps leaning in, fingertips skating up Johnny’s arm as they finish toeing off their shoes in the entryway, like he’s addicted to the feel of Johnny’s bare skin.

Maybe the tension is affecting Ten, too.

“Come on,” Johnny murmurs, tilting his head towards the hall. If he thinks too hard about what he’s doing - what _they’re_ doing, what they’re _going_ to do and why Ten’s following him to his room - he’s going to pass out from all the blood in his body redirecting south.

God, and they haven’t even _done_ anything yet. But years of repressed desire and the potency of Johnny’s imagination and that _smirk_ Ten keeps giving him are a heady combination.

Ten pats Johnny’s cheeks as he passes by, stripping off his jacket and tossing it over the back of the couch as he heads for the unlit hallway. There’s a sway to Ten’s hips that Johnny hasn’t seen before, and it makes something hot settle in the pit of his stomach. He can’t help but look.

He knows he’s _meant_ to look. Johnny follows like he’s in a trance.

Ten’s figure is a lean silhouette when Johnny enters his room, lit by the one lamp between the beds. The light catches golden on Ten’s dark hair, on the glimmer of metal in his ears, on the cupid’s bow of his mouth when Ten licks his lips.

He crooks a finger in Johnny’s direction from where he stands at the foot of Johnny’s bed, smirking. Johnny draws closer, a moth to a flame.

“Ten,” Johnny says, when he’s close enough to touch. His breath hitches when Ten reaches up to cup a hand around the back of his neck, looking up at Johnny with undeniable puckish amusement playing at the corner of his lips. His fingers are cool and grounding against Johnny’s flushed skin.

Well, sort of grounding. Johnny’s still feeling like they missed a step somewhere, between joking and tipsy and best friends and here, in Johnny’s bedroom, on the cliff edge of something new.

“Johnny,” Ten hums, waiting him out. They’ve swayed so close together that it’s frighteningly easy for Johnny to anchor his hands on Ten’s narrow hips, keeping him carefully in place and no closer.

Not yet, at least.

“You know, if we do this…” Johnny trails off, clears his throat. Ten’s gaze is intense but not unkind; in the half-light his eyes are warm. “There are just some things you can’t come back from. You’re my best friend, and - and this changes things.”

Ten’s bangs fall into his eyes as he tilts his head, considering. His smirk softens into a smile. “I said we _could,_ not that we _have_ to do anything, Johnny.”

“I know, but -”

“And I don’t think there’s anything you could do or say that would make me want to stop being your best friend,” Ten continues, toying with the short hair at Johnny’s nape.

Johnny’s helpless to the heat that floods into his cheeks; oh, if only Ten had any idea about the things Johnny’s mind has conjured up tonight. “You, uh, you say that now, but -”

“But what?” Ten chuckles, eyes creasing as he smiles. “It’s just _me_ , Johnny.”

There’s nothing _just_ about Ten, but Johnny bites his tongue.

They’re close enough together that Johnny can spot the exact moment that Ten’s expression shifts, the smile dropping from his face and his eyes taking on a dark heat that has Johnny’s heart tripping over itself.

“Besides,” Ten murmurs, “maybe I want something to change.”

“Ten,” Johnny breathes. His fingers flex on Ten’s hips as something like hope swells in his chest, bright and dizzying. The rush of it is heady, fizzing and spreading through Johnny’s limbs all the way down to his fingertips.

Is he saying what Johnny thinks he’s saying?

Ten’s gaze is unwavering, even as a pretty blush blooms across his cheeks. “Maybe I wanna take a chance. See what happens.”

“ _Ten_ ,” Johnny repeats, weak-kneed at the earnestness in Ten’s expression, the conviction in his tone.

“So - do you?” Ten asks, hands smoothing down from Johnny’s neck to rest on his shoulders, squeezing gently. “Do you wanna take a chance with me?”

Johnny takes a shuddering breath; Ten must be able to feel it under his hands, the way Johnny’s ribs expand with the fullness of his heart. “Yeah - _yes._ If you’re sure -”

“I’m sure.” The smile Ten gives him is incandescent; Johnny wants to kiss him, feel that sweet smile against his own. And maybe he _can -_ maybe Ten will let him. Maybe that’s something Ten wants, too.

It is. Ten beats him to the punch.

Johnny gasps when Ten leans up and fits their mouths together, his grip on Johnny’s shoulders firm as he goes up on his toes. Not that Ten would admit to needing the boost, probably, but Johnny can feel the flex of Ten’s waist where his fingers have snuck under the hem of Ten’s tee. Ten’s lips are just as soft as they are clever, quickly coaxing Johnny into a building rhythm that’s nearly a dance, kiss after kiss after kiss.

Oh, it’s better than Johnny ever imagined.

It’s almost weird, how familiar and how novel it feels at the same time. Because it’s still _Ten and Johnny,_ even if this particular _activity_ is new to them. It’s still the same push and pull of their banter - has it really just been flirting, all along? - and Johnny can’t get enough of it, even when his lungs start to burn.

They break to pant for air, only a half-second of reprieve before leaning into each other again. Ten uses the opportunity to nip at Johnny’s bottom lip and then curl their tongues together, relentless. He tastes like soju and the lingering spice from their meal.

Johnny wants to kiss him until all he can taste is Ten himself.

His lips are buzzing when they pull apart, tender and swollen and warm from their kiss. Johnny feels like he’s just come off stage after a concert, breathless and high off the way Ten grins up at him, face flushed and pupils blown. Ten runs his palms along Johnny’s shoulders, somewhere between reassurance and admiration, and then -

And then Johnny’s world tilts on its axis as Ten gives him a gentle shove, sending him tipping backwards to fall against his bed.

“Hey!” Johnny laughs, landing flat on his back with an _oof -_ more out of surprise than anything else. He quirks an eyebrow up at Ten’s devilish expression. “What was that for?”

“What, the kiss?” Ten bends at the waist to lean over him, hands on his hips. The neck of his tee gapes forward, revealing even more of his elegant collarbones and the column of his throat. “Because I _wanted to_ , Johnny.”

Johnny gulps, blinking up at him. _Oh._ If Ten’s going to keep saying his name like that - well. Like this, spread out on his bed, there’s no way that Ten _won’t_ notice that Johnny’s getting hard in his joggers.

“I meant, uh,” Johnny says, pushing himself up on his elbows and gesturing to his sprawled pose across the bed.

Ten’s eyes twinkle in the lamplight. He puts one knee on the bed in the vee of Johnny’s thighs; the mattress dips under his weight just as Johnny’s stomach flips. “I know what you meant. Did you forget this is supposed to be a demonstration? You’re my audience tonight.”

“Audience,” Johnny says, heat licking up his spine. “You make it sound like a show.”

“A private show,” Ten smirks, showing just a hint of teeth, and _fuck_. Johnny’s not going to survive their back-and-forth, tit-for-tat conversations if they’re having them like _this,_ with Ten looming over him and looking ready to pounce.

Wouldn’t be the worst way to go, though.

Johnny leans forward just enough that he can cup a broad hand around the back of Ten’s thigh, above his bent knee, feeling the flex of Ten’s leg under his sinfully-tight jeans. Ten’s eyelashes dip at the touch, a little quiver running through the muscle under Johnny’s fingers.

He may be lean, but Ten is surprisingly strong; Johnny’s learned not to underestimate him over the years. There’s a reason he’s a main dancer and doesn’t need to work out much outside of dance practice - and he’s got the legs to show for it. Johnny’s had some thoughts about being between these thighs before. Ideally face-first.

But tonight -

Johnny wants to see what Ten has in store for him. He wants to see what Ten will do to show off, when it’s just the two of them and the heady promise of _something_ unfolding between them.

A _private show._

He’s dragged out of his thoughts when Ten catches his hand and pulls it away from his thigh, giving Johnny’s palm a quick kiss before he pushes off the bed and away. “Think you’re ready?”

“I’ve been ready for a long time,” Johnny says - and Ten must hear the wistful undercurrent in his tone, because he gives Johnny a soft smile over his shoulder as he turns. That, as much as anything that’s happened yet tonight, makes butterflies erupt in Johnny’s belly. “Are you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Ten chuckles. With his back to Johnny he pulls off his socks - and then, in one fluid motion, reaches for the hem of his shirt and drags it over his head.

Johnny’s mouth goes dry.

It’s easy to forget that Ten’s so broad-shouldered, with how much he likes to wear loose-fitting clothes that hide his frame. But there’s no denying it, with his bare skin on display. He’s gorgeously masculine, all perfect shoulders and back tapering to his trim waist, the dimples on either side of his spine visible over the waistband of his jeans.

Johnny wants to bite them. Ten’s shoulders, that is - and, well, _all_ of him. His mouth waters at the thought of lavishing Ten’s body with attention, finally getting his lips on all of that _skin_.

So he’s got a few ideas. From the smirk Ten gives Johnny when he turns around, Ten knows _exactly_ what he’s doing to Johnny’s mental state.

As if Johnny’s been thinking about anything _besides_ Ten since Mark’s dumb shrimp joke two hours ago.

Ten stretches his arms above his head, rotating his neck back and forth - mostly for show, Johnny thinks, watching the slide of muscle under Ten’s skin as he moves. The smirk doesn’t leave Ten’s face, eyes glittering where they are locked on Johnny’s. It stokes the heat in Johnny’s belly, to be the focus of Ten’s undivided attention.

Johnny has the feeling that Ten likes being watched. Maybe they’re well-matched in that way, too: Ten likes being watched, and _oh,_ does Johnny want to see him.

“As your audience, am I allowed to _participate_?” Johnny asks, flexing his hands in the sheets, itching to reach out and touch again. It’s a delicious tension, to finally have Ten so close and still not be able to touch him.

Ten grins, lowering his arms to smooth his hands down the planes of his chest, grazing over his tattoo, his nipples. _Fuck._ “What, don’t think you can keep your hands to yourself?”

“Can you blame me?” Johnny hooks a finger in one of Ten’s belt loops when he sways closer, reeling him in to stand between Johnny’s legs again. Like this, Johnny’s mouth is temptingly close to the center of Ten’s chest - a reversal of their usual height difference. Johnny finds he doesn’t mind one bit. “You know what you look like, Ten. Maybe this can be… hands-on.”

Ten rolls his eyes at the joke, but smiles all the same.

He goes easily when Johnny tugs playfully at his hips a second time, bending to meet Johnny’s lips in a kiss. He doesn’t hesitate to lick into Johnny’s mouth, mapping him with his tongue, so thorough and wet it makes Johnny’s head spin.

Or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s _kissing Ten,_ his favorite person and best friend, the sole subject of his romantic dreams and dirty thoughts and -

_Fuck_ , if they do even _one_ of the things Johnny’s been imagining, he’s a total goner. Not that he isn’t already gone for Ten completely, body and mind and heart.

When Ten finally pulls back, he swipes his thumb along Johnny’s bottom lip, slick and already puffy from making out. He chases Ten’s thumb with his tongue _;_ he can see Ten’s pupils blow wide at the touch.

Johnny’s dick twitches in his sweats, and Ten grins. “Oh, I think I can work with that.”

And _god,_ what is Johnny supposed to do besides gasp when Ten smirks at him like that, and then takes the opportunity to climb onto Johnny’s lap, lowering himself to straddle Johnny’s thighs?

Well - gasp and then kiss him, of course.

Johnny gives in to the itch under his skin and slides his palms up, up, up Ten’s muscled thighs - spread wide to accommodate Johnny underneath him - to cradle Ten’s narrow hips. His hands look so fucking big against Ten’s smaller frame. It’s something Johnny has known, of course; they’ve grown up and _grown_ together, over the years. But in this new context it’s dizzying to see his broad hands and Ten’s lithe muscles, to know that his fingertips almost brush together at the small of Ten’s back.

From the noise Ten makes in the back of his throat when Johnny gently presses his thumbs into the arch of his hip bones, he’s just as into it.

Ten hums into Johnny’s mouth as he circles his hips slowly, experimentally. It’s a dirty grind made dirtier by how Johnny can feel the flex of muscle in his legs and lower back, the drag of the hot weight of Ten’s - _oh._

Johnny’s breath hitches in his chest.

Ten is hard too, tenting the front of his painted-on skinny jeans. It’s somehow even more obscene than Johnny’s own cock filling out the front of his sweatpants - but then again, maybe that’s because most of the time Johnny actively tries to _not_ think about Ten’s dick. And what he’d like to do to it, and the rest of Ten.

He’s kind of got a list, actually.

Johnny whines into the kiss and Ten pulls away to laugh, a little breathless, mouthing at the side of Johnny’s neck. They’re both panting now, and Johnny makes another garbled moan when Ten puts his hands on Johnny’s chest, using the leverage to rut their clothed cocks together.

God, this is - this is _searingly_ hot, better than anything Johnny has imagined. He doesn’t care how obvious or needy or loud he’s being with Ten’s weight settled on him like this, his bare skin under Johnny’s fingertips. It’s better than any wet dream, any fantasy he’s had over the years.

Because it’s _Ten,_ the two of them together, for real. And they may not have talked it all through yet, but Johnny’s not gonna waste a single moment: he’s gonna _show_ Ten how much he’s into him.

Just like this, with Ten’s body against his.

Johnny lets his hands wander, cupping the plush span of Ten’s ass and kneading, encouraging him to start a languid, rolling rhythm. Ten groans, a hot exhale against Johnny’s ear that sends a shudder running down his body, all the way to his fingertips.

“You’re being really distracting,” Ten says, kissing messily down the column of Johnny’s throat to nip at his collarbones. Every pinprick of pain melts into pleasure on Johnny’s skin, throbbing in time with his heart. “I had a plan, you know.”

“ _Me,_ distracting?” Johnny huffs a laugh. He squeezes Ten’s ass again, dipping his fingers under the waistband to get to more of his skin. _God,_ Ten feels as good as he’s always looked. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all night.”

“All night, huh.” Ten grinds down once more and then pushes himself up, away from Johnny’s chest so that they can meet each other’s gaze. His eyes are dark, _so_ dark and hungry that it makes Johnny’s stomach clench.

He is absolutely, woefully unprepared for what comes out of Ten’s mouth next: “Tell me about it, then. Tell me what you can’t stop thinking about.”

Johnny nearly chokes on his own spit. “ _Ten_ -”

“Were you picturing it? What I would look like, how far I can bend?” Ten asks, voice lower and rougher than Johnny’s ever heard it before. He arches his back just a little, rakes a hand through his hair as he looks down at Johnny - _fuck,_ on any given day Ten’s the hottest thing that Johnny’s ever seen, but like this -

“Yeah,” Johnny breathes, trying to keep up despite the maddeningly slow grind of Ten’s hips, the heat and weight of his cock slotted up against Johnny’s through their clothes. “Yeah, I - even in the restaurant, surrounded by all our friends - _ah!_ I couldn’t stop imagining what you’d look like.”

“ _Fuck_ , _”_ Ten swears, pressing forward to capture Johnny’s mouth in a filthy kiss. Arousal is starting to make both of them sloppy and eager and Johnny is so, so hard from it. “ _Johnny.”_

He can’t help it; Johnny cups a hand around the nape of Ten’s neck and licks into his mouth, swallowing down the pretty whines Ten makes when Johnny pets up the damp planes of his back. Ten’s teeth catch on Johnny’s lower lip and he moans, panting into Ten’s mouth. It’s noisy and wet and a little desperate and _perfect._

When Ten worms a hand between them and pops the button on his own fly, Johnny _throbs._

It’s time to make at least one of these fantasies a reality.

Johnny anchors his hands on Ten’s hips and surges into action. It takes only half a second to flip their positions - Johnny’s knees on the bed between Ten’s spread legs, Ten’s dark hair fanning out across Johnny’s pillow when he lands with a quiet thump. Johnny doesn’t miss the soft gasp from Ten’s lips, or the way Ten’s eyes linger on his biceps before meeting Johnny’s gaze again, cheeks pink.

Oh, _that’s_ certainly something to file away for later, if Ten’s as into Johnny’s strength as Johnny is into Ten’s… well, everything. Tonight, it’s his flexibility. Maybe next time Johnny will get to hold Ten up against a wall.

_Next time._ Johnny’s throat goes dry. There might actually be a next time with Ten.

For now, his focus is on one thing: Ten’s hot, dazed expression underneath him, his button undone and legs spread wide on either side of Johnny’s thighs. The fabric of his jeans is taut across his hips, stretched to the limit from Ten’s pose and the undeniable shape of his cock, hard and starting to leak.

Johnny can tell because Ten’s fly has edged down just enough for him to get a peek underneath - to his dark boxer-briefs made darker by a damp, slick patch where the head of Ten’s cock should be. Johnny’s nostrils flare at the sight.

_God,_ Johnny wants to get his mouth on him.

“You know, I’m enjoying this very much,” Johnny says, dragging his eyes up Ten’s body to meet his gaze. He lets his eyes pointedly linger on Ten’s heaving chest, the pulse-point of his neck, the swell of his reddened lips. “But I’m not seeing much of the _flexibility_ you promised to show me.”

“Yeah?” Ten catches his bottom lip between his teeth, smirking up at Johnny with unhurried mischief. “Maybe you should just bend me in half instead.”

Johnny groans, and his dick twitches in his sweats; from Ten’s look of sheer delight, he must have felt it. “Don’t tempt me.”

“What, you think I can’t take it?” Ten slides his arms up around Johnny’s neck, tugging him in, until Johnny’s bent over him and they’re breathing each other’s air. His hands find Ten’s ribs, clutching him closer as Ten rolls their hips together in a sinuous wave of friction. “I can take anything you give me, baby.”

“ _Fuck_ , Ten,” Johnny exhales, heat rippling down his spine at Ten’s words. Ten has always had a flirty sense of humor, but to have it turned on Johnny, laser-focused, in the form of _dirty talk_ -

“That’s the idea, yes,” Ten quirks an eyebrow, clearly amused, and _god._

Johnny is _so_ into him, so into the way their banter has evolved seamlessly into foreplay, an extension of the easy chemistry that’s been their bedrock for years. The way Ten’s looking up at him isn’t so different from their usual teasing but oh, it _is,_ with his eyes so dark and a flush spanning the bridge of his perfect nose.

The force of it nearly knocks the breath out of Johnny’s chest. Sure, this is something that they can’t take back - but with Ten’s smile as bright as ever, and that playful glint in his eye that Johnny’s been in love with for years, it doesn’t really feel like a big, monumental thing. It’s still the two of them.

_Maybe I want something to change._

“For starters, though,” Ten says, pulling Johnny’s out of his thoughts, “you are _far_ too dressed for this.”

Johnny laughs when Ten plucks at his loose tee in disdain - but soon enough he’s sucking in a breath as Ten’s clever fingers sneak up underneath the hem, roaming over the planes of Johnny’s abs, up his obliques.

“You ever think you’re just too used to going shirtless?” Johnny teases, willing his voice to stay steady as Ten explores his skin - and failing, if Ten’s smirk is anything to go by.

“Not at all,” Ten chuckles. “You’re one to talk - the stylists have your chest exposed half the time, too.”

Johnny hums, letting Ten ruck his shirt up to his armpits before he sits back on his heels, tugging it the rest of the way off himself. This close, he doesn’t miss how Ten’s nostrils flare, the way his eyes immediately pull down to Johnny’s muscled shoulders and the colorful splay of his tattoo.

“And you like what you see, huh?” Johnny smirks, grinning wider when Ten’s blush spreads towards his ears. _Cute._ Still - it makes heat pool in his belly, to know that is Ten so attracted to him in return.

Which is a lot. God, Johnny still can’t quite believe they’re here, pressed together in all the right places. And it’s even better now that they’re both shirtless.

Johnny leans back in, settling his weight carefully on Ten - and both of them groan at the sensation of skin on skin, Johnny’s larger frame pinning Ten to the mattress. Ten pinches Johnny’s side until he looks up, questioning - only for Ten to slide their mouths together, wet and heated.

Yeah. Kissing is even _better_ like this.

Ten explores the newly-revealed planes of Johnny’s back, up over his shoulders and then down again, squeezing the muscular curves of Johnny’s deltoids in appreciation. He smooths his hands over Johnny’s chest, pausing to cup his pecs - and, as Johnny suddenly predicts in a flash of clarity the moment before it happens, thumbs at _both_ of Johnny’s nipples at the same time.

Johnny’s helpless to stop the moan that spills out of his mouth and the way his hips kick in response, grinding into the cradle of Ten’s hips, against the firm ridge of his cock. Ten grins into the kiss - gone open-mouthed and sloppy with Johnny’s reaction - and flicks his nipples again.

Fuck. Maybe they know each other _too_ well.

“These too,” Ten mumbles into the kiss, fingertips drifting further south. He hooks the tip of his finger into Johnny’s waistband, pulling it back to let the elastic gently snap against Johnny’s abs. God - when they break for air, there’s no mistaking the way Ten eyes the bulge of his cock, hard and only getting harder with Ten’s attention.

Getting naked means moving off Ten and untangling their legs, even if it’s worth it in the long run. Johnny wants to be touching every inch of Ten’s skin as soon as possible.

So he leaves a chaste kiss on the corner of Ten’s mouth as he pushes up again, smiling. “And get yours off, too - god, I can’t believe you still have _jeans_ on.”

“Well, _Johnny,_ if I had known that tonight was the night we’d finally do this, I would have worn something easier to take off,” Ten grumbles, and Johnny’s heart trips in his chest.

The word plays on loop in his head: _finally._

_Finally._

He must be suspiciously quiet and suspiciously still, because Ten looks up from wriggling the denim over his hips and thighs to quirk a brow at him. “What?”

“I - nothing,” Johnny bites his lip, trying to fight down the stupidly fond smile that’s threatening to take over his face. “You, uh, need some help?”

“No, just - give me a sec.” Ten huffs and squirms until his feet are planted flat on the bed, and _oh -_ like that, it’s easy enough for him to press his hips upward, back arched in some kind of pilates pose that lets Ten shimmy the pants all the way to his knees. His broad shoulders somehow still manage to stay on the bed, but the rest of him is - is -

_Bent,_ Johnny’s brain supplies.

Ten does it so easily and so innocuously, like bending like this is something he does every day. Johnny’s still stuck on the gorgeous arch Ten’s body makes, a curving line from his chest to his knees, ass flexed to keep his body in the air.

There’s probably a name for this position in yoga - not that Johnny knows jack shit about yoga, really, flying or otherwise. Though, if it has Ten bending in this kind of pose, maybe Johnny _does_ want to know more about it.

Just the sight of Ten arched so perfectly sends Johnny’s mind into overdrive - because it’s not far at all from what Johnny’s been imagining the entire evening, Ten splayed out in front of him like a wet dream.

It doesn’t help that Ten brings himself down slowly, abs taut as he settles back on the duvet again. He’s smirking that smirk, watching Johnny’s slack-jawed expression while he kicks his jeans down his shins and the rest of the way off.

His jeans _and_ his boxer briefs. Oh. Johnny's been too preoccupied to notice, which is a serious, serious oversight.

Not that he can blame himself for getting caught up in the muscular flex of Ten’s body, but -

Ten doesn’t seem self-conscious at all, to have his entire body on display for Johnny. Of course Ten must know how he looks - lithe and gorgeous and golden - and sure, it’s not like they haven’t seen each other naked before. But a quick glimpse of Ten’s soft dick when they change out of stage outfits is different from having Ten lounging like a centerfold on his bed, naked as the day he was born.

Johnny swallows, drinking him in like a man parched.

Ten’s cock is beautiful - is it weird to call a dick beautiful? - where it curves up towards his smooth belly, fully hard already. He’s not as long or thick as Johnny but the crown of it is perfectly-shaped and flushed a mouth-watering petal-pink.

And Johnny’s mouth is watering, all right. _Damn._

“Still can’t stop staring?” Ten sounds endlessly amused, and he prods at Johnny’s clothed thigh with the heel of his foot. “C’mon, get those _off.”_

“Pushy,” Johnny sighs, when he can finally get his mouth to work again.

“You love it,” Ten smirks, leaning back on his elbows to watch Johnny undress, eyes hooded.

And, well. It’s not like Johnny can deny it, when it comes to Ten.

Johnny fumbles with the waistband of his sweats, making the split-second decision to just shuck it all, like Ten did. A little shiver runs down his spine as he does - more because Ten’s eyes track his every movement than because of the cool air against his skin - and there’s no helping that he’s nowhere near as graceful as Ten is.

But this is what they’re here for, and Johnny really, _really_ wants to feel more of Ten’s bare skin against his own. That alone helps Johnny push through his lingering self-consciousness.

Okay - and it’s an ego boost to hear Ten’s sharp intake of breath when Johnny’s cock is finally freed, springing up to bob against his stomach when he gets his joggers down over his thighs. Johnny flatters himself to think he’s got a pretty nice-looking dick, well-proportioned to his height and all, but the way Ten looks at it -

Heat floods through Johnny’s body. Ten looks like he wants to devour Johnny whole, starting with his cock.

Ten bites his lip, eyes flicking up from Johnny’s dick to his face, and that’s it - Johnny surges into action, bracketing Ten’s chest with his arms and sealing their mouths together. They both groan into the kiss, at the sensation of so much bare skin; Johnny can feel the drag of Ten’s nipples on his own chest, the lean strength of Ten’s thighs as he traps Johnny’s hips, the rapid pulse of Ten’s heart beat under his fingertips.

And the velvet-hard nudge of Ten’s cock against his own, blood-hot and a little slick already. _Fuck._

“What do you want?” Johnny asks when they part, panting. He smears a kiss along Ten’s jaw, licking a trail down Ten’s neck, then across Ten’s chest to leave a lingering kiss over his tattoo - over his heart. Johnny looks up, mouth still pressed against the skin and dark ink; Ten makes a soft noise in his throat when their eyes meet, and Johnny melts all over again.

God, he’s so _responsive_ \- as if Johnny’s libido needed more encouragement. Even in the soft, tender moments, Ten matches him beat for beat.

But Johnny is never going to get tired of seeing Ten - _Ten,_ who is usually all charisma and confidence and charm - flush like this. He looks all too pretty and sultry, with a healthy blush across his cheeks. Johnny rests his chin on the gentle dip of Ten’s chest, waiting him out.

It doesn’t take long. Ten licks his lips. “Was the invitation to bend me in half not clear enough?”

_Fuck._

“I mean,” Johnny clears his throat. Ten can probably feel the way Johnny’s heart nearly skipped a beat at those words, in that order, coming from Ten’s mouth. “I might have blacked out a little the first time you said it like that, but yeah.”

Ten smiles, something that manages to be both unbearably fond and hot at the same time. Johnny’s just biased, probably. “Need me to say it again?”

Johnny would very, very much like to hear it again - and anything else Ten wants to say about the things they could do together. But on the other hand -

“You probably shouldn’t,” Johnny mumbles, pouting a little as he looks up at Ten, “if you care about my sanity.”

And, y’know. So Johnny doesn’t bust a nut before they actually _get_ to bending Ten in half - which is a legitimate concern, given how much Johnny is into Ten’s voice.

Ten’s face breaks out in a self-satisfied smirk, and he quirks an eyebrow as he threads a hand into Johnny’s hair, petting idly through it. “I thought you were into the dirty talk.”

“I’m into _you,”_ Johnny rolls his eyes, ignoring how the admission makes his face heat, “and part of that is how you talk, yeah. And it wouldn’t be us if we weren’t teasing each other during this, too, right?”

“Yeah,” Ten says softly, almost shyly. It’s a cute look on him - even if it’s a little weird to call Ten cute when they’re completely naked and pressed all against each other, chest to chest.

“So?” Johnny asks, leaning up again to kiss Ten’s cheek. “That’s what you want? No second thoughts?”

“No, I - I really, really want you to fuck me,” Ten says. In the yellow lamplight, his eyes are oil-dark, hot. “Please.”

Johnny isn’t going to say no to that.

This time when they kiss, there’s no denying the quickly-growing fire between them. Ten groans low in his throat when Johnny licks at the seam of his mouth, jaw dropping open to let Johnny inside. He’s warm, so warm everywhere they’re touching - and it’s not long before he’s hitching his hips against Johnny’s again, grinding up against Johnny’s weight, their cocks trapped between them.

Johnny braces on one forearm so he can skim his other hand down Ten’s body, along one lithe arm and then the curve of his hip, to the sensitive underside of Ten’s muscular thigh. He cups his hand underneath the crook of Ten’s knee, encouraging him to lift it, slotting them closer together.

“That’s more like it,” Ten exhales, giving Johnny’s lower lip a teasing nip. His knee tucks up along Johnny’s ribs, hips canting just right.

Johnny doesn’t know if it’s instinct or experience, but _goddamn._ The change in angle puts the head of Ten’s cock right up against the underside of Johnny’s, catching on the sensitive ridge with every move. He moans into Ten’s mouth, shoulders rounding as he grinds into Ten, chasing the feeling.

This - just like this - would really be enough. Johnny can feel the heat pooling low in his gut; having Ten splayed out underneath him, rutting together like teenagers and kissing sloppy and wet is _definitely_ enough to get him there.

But Ten’s words keep echoing in Johnny’s head, a filthy demand he’d dressed up with a _please_. It’s potent, swirling around Johnny’s mind: _I want you to fuck me,_ and _a demonstration_ and _bend me in half._

It all comes back to Ten, Ten, Ten, Ten.

So Johnny lets himself enjoy this, the little gasps Ten makes into their kiss when Johnny rocks against him just right, the blunt sting of Ten’s nails at the nape of his neck. He kisses Ten until his mouth is swollen and shiny, and a sheen of sweat beads at the sides of Ten’s neck.

Yeah, seeing Ten like this - it could easily drive Johnny to distraction.

But Johnny knows what he wants, and he knows what Ten wants - even the haze of lust clouding his brain doesn’t block the image of Ten folded over, hands holding his own legs over his head, from taking over Johnny’s thoughts.

Fuck, yeah. It’s high time they get on that.

Johnny pulls away from Ten’s lips with a low hum and settles his weight back in the vee of Ten’s knees. Ten’s eyes flicker open as Johnny curls his hands around Ten’s waist, careful to keep his touch firm and not ticklish.

He starts slow, so he gets to watch the play of emotions on Ten’s face, see the moment he realizes what’s happening. Johnny grips Ten’s waist and tugs him up over his thighs, into his lap - Ten’s hips tilting upwards and knees folding in towards his own chest. When Johnny finishes pulling them flush Ten whines, wriggling to get comfortable - squirming closer to feel Johnny’s cock nestled against him, nudging against the soft swell of Ten’s balls and the base of his cock.

He’s so beautiful like this. Ten is also, undeniably and oh-so-effortlessly, folded in half.

“ _Yeah,”_ Ten exhales dreamily, lifting his arms over his head to press his hands into the mattress underneath him. Johnny can feel the flex of every muscle as Ten arches his back, rocks his ass against Johnny’s cock. “Just like that.”

“Good?” Johnny asks, squeezing Ten’s hips and starting to move in tandem. The drag is hot and a little slick - slicker when Johnny pushes a few fingers into his own mouth to coat them before he gets a hand around Ten’s cock. Ten groans, precome oozing from the tip of his cock; the hot weight of him in Johnny’s hand makes his throat go dry.

Not tonight - but maybe another time. Maybe _next_ time he’ll get his mouth around Ten’s lovely cock and learn all the places he’s most sensitive, get to really _taste_ him like Johnny’s wanted to for - for what feels like forever.

Ten’s eyelashes flutter as he hums an affirmative, running a languid hand through his own hair to push his bangs off his sweaty forehead. “You can keep going, you know.”

“Keep going?” Johnny repeats; his hips stutter in their rhythm. He knows what Ten means, but -

“C’mon,” Ten hitches one leg up further, catching his hand around the back of his thigh to pull his leg into his chest. Johnny’s helpless as he watches Ten repeat the motion with his other leg - easy, like he isn’t folding himself in _half_ for Johnny’s eyes.

For _Johnny._

A rush of heat runs across Johnny’s skin, his mind going hazy at the sight. There’s no denying that Ten is exposed - all the hidden, secret curves of him that Johnny has longed to see are on display across Johnny’s lap. Johnny wants to explore it all, figure out what makes Ten sigh and groan and whine and come and laugh.

Maybe not in that order, but Johnny wants _all_ of it. He wants to make Ten feel _good._

It takes work to drag his eyes away from the cleft of Ten’s ass, the almost-hidden divot of his hole, back up to meet Ten’s eyes. Ten smirks over the rounded caps of his knees; of course he’s caught Johnny looking. He _wants_ Johnny to look.

And then Ten spreads his knees a little more - making enough room for Johnny to keep moving his hand over Ten’s cock, where it’s trapped between Ten’s belly and the plush muscle of Ten’s thighs. Somehow there’s just space for Johnny’s big hand to stroke, so he does - slowly at first, gaining momentum as Ten groans low in his chest, eyes hooded as he looks up at Johnny through his eyelashes.

Goddamn it, if Ten’s going to keep looking at Johnny like this -

Johnny swallows down his own whine, cock twitching against the crease of Ten’s taint, his precome smearing messily against Ten’s inner thigh. He looks big compared to Ten here, too; in this position they can’t really grind their cocks together anymore, but Johnny can still hear the little hiccup in Ten’s breath every time the head of Johnny’s cock grazes the base of his shaft, leaving a shiny trail and easing the way for Johnny’s hand.

Not to mention the fact that seeing his precome on Ten’s body, marking him with slick, makes Johnny’s dick twitch yet again.

He experiments with the pressure and tempo as he fists Ten’s cock, bumping up against the firm planes of Ten’s abs on every stroke around the leaking head. Ten whines, fingers flexing against his own thighs on a particularly wicked twist of Johnny’s hand. Johnny has to muffle his smirk against Ten’s knee, pressing a lingering kiss there as he does.

God, he’s getting so _wet._ Ten is stunning like this, his lean muscles flexing under his skin as he rocks in time to Johnny’s grinding thrusts.

But gravity is getting the better of them; even with Ten braced as he is and Johnny’s firm grip on his waist, he keeps sliding down, out of Johnny’s lap. After the second time Ten grumbles, twisting to reach behind him and drag a few pillows around to wedge underneath his shoulders.

“Don’t laugh,” Ten warns, catching Johnny’s amusement - but Johnny’s smile has already taken over his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry - I forgot sex was supposed to be _totally serious_ at _all times_ ,” Johnny says, biting his bottom lip to stifle his laughter. “You know I’m not laughing _at_ you - I’m laughing at how much you keep slipping.”

“This would be less of a problem if you pinned me down the way I want you to,” Ten sighs, thumping a pillow a few times before shoving it under his head - and stilling as his mind catches up with his words. “Uh, I mean -”

Too late; Johnny’s traitorous dick twitches against Ten at his admission, and Johnny feels his face heat. God, how does Ten still manage to make him blush when they’re in bed together, bare to each other in the most intimate ways?

“No, you should - you should tell me what you want,” Johnny says, giving Ten a smile despite how red his cheeks must be. He can hear that his voice has gone rough and low with desire. "C'mere, we can make it work."

Ten grins at Johnny’s reassuring squeeze of his hips, scooting closer so that Johnny can drag him into his lap again. His legs fold so easily, so prettily back onto themselves when Johnny reels him in, Ten’s arched back following the sloped plane of Johnny’s legs. Ten wraps his hands around the backs of his thighs, tucking his fingers high under his knees so that he can tug them even further in.

Like this, Ten is so deliciously laid out for him - Johnny has to look up the length of Ten’s lean belly and tattooed chest to meet his heated gaze, and _god,_ Johnny can’t stop himself from taking a moment to appreciate him. Ten is _beautiful_ -

Johnny has always thought that Ten is beautiful.

But all too soon Ten kicks a gentle foot into Johnny’s shoulder, urging him on with a raised eyebrow. “You good, baby?”

Johnny’s heart stutters in his chest, even though Ten’s called him that more than once tonight already. _Baby._

“I’m good,” Johnny says, smoothing his hands up and down Ten’s thighs, the heels of his thumbs bumping Ten’s knuckles where he holds his own legs in place. _Christ._ Johnny is gonna have this image of Ten burned into his mind forever. “I’m good, and you’re - _amazing.”_

Ten sticks his tongue out like the flirt that he is. “You haven’t seen anything yet, Johnny.”

And then Ten is arching his back, rocking sinuously down onto Johnny’s dick. He tilts his hips so that the head of Johnny’s cock just starts to catch on his hole before he keeps grinding, rutting against the length of Johnny’s shaft.

Fuck, _fuck._ Johnny isn’t gonna last long if Ten keeps doing that, a sinful tease at what Ten really wants.

“ _Ten_ ,” Johnny groans, trying to keep up but aware that he’s more or less along for the ride. Maybe that’s just what happens, when you bone down with a main dancer. “You trying to rile me up on purpose?”

The smirk Johnny gets in response is all the answer he needs. “That depends - is it working?”

“You _know_ it is.” Johnny would roll his eyes if he could, but he’s too preoccupied with trying to meet Ten’s languid movements, leaning over him to grind them together, wet and getting wetter.

“Yeah?” Ten’s panting, his chest gleaming with a layer of sweat in the low light. He’s nearly glowing with it, gorgeous and dangerous and still, somehow, in control. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Johnny kisses him.

Johnny kisses him, dropping down on one elbow to meet Ten’s mouth. They’re both bent in half now - Johnny curled over Ten’s body to suck on Ten’s lower lip, Ten braced on Johnny’s lap with his knees obscenely tucked into his chest. But Ten doesn’t complain - he moans into the kiss, squirming to get Johnny’s cock snug between his thighs, letting go of one leg so he can tangle his fingers in Johnny’s hair.

They kiss, and kiss - until it’s sloppy and open-mouthed, finding a heady grind of their bodies together because there’s barely any space to move. Johnny grunts when Ten flexes, crunching inward to create friction. It’s not wet enough, for one thing, and there’s just no way to get the leverage that both of them want.

“Here, let me -” Johnny mumbles against Ten’s lips, trying to blink through the dizzying _want_ clouding his head. He pulls upright, just a little bit - he’d never have imagined that sex would be _this_ much of a core workout - and it gives him enough room to look down at Ten, who -

Fucking _christ._

Ten’s not just bent in half.

Ten is folded so far that his knees are practically grazing his ears. He’s fisted the sheets underneath him for purchase, pressing up against Johnny - and it’s only caused him to curl tighter in on himself. It’s nearly _pornographic_ how Johnny can see down the line of his body, from the plush muscle of Ten’s ass right there, in his face, all the way to Ten’s smirk. Because he is smirking, of _course_ he is, visible in the vee made by his own thighs.

Johnny swallows. It also - it also means Ten’s cock is bobbing in front of his own face, mere inches away.

And doesn’t _that_ put certain thoughts in Johnny’s head.

Fuck, Ten just - how does he look so good like _this,_ folded into an impossible pretzel - an impossibly _sexy_ pretzel? Sure, Ten’s flexibility is well-known; it had been the subject of conversation _tonight,_ but Johnny’s still certain that nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Ten folded in on himself in Johnny’s lap.

Maybe he _should_ take up pilates. Or yoga, or whatever. Johnny’s always wondered if Ten has one of those double-jointed things, too, but yoga seems like a start to get on this level. Because -

Because it’s _hot,_ even if Johnny never expected to see Ten in this position. Hell, Johnny never thought that they’d tumble into _bed_ together for real before tonight. And now here they are, Ten knotted over Johnny’s thighs and folded open like some kama sutra pose only achievable by members of Cirque du Soleil.

And Ten, apparently. A fucking _demonstration_ indeed.

A prickle of heat spreads across Johnny’s skin, lifting the hair at the nape of his neck. This must be what Ten looks like when he’s about to give head. The distance between the tip of Ten’s cock and the swollen pink of his kiss-bruised lips is _miniscule,_ and Johnny is helpless to his own imagination.

He’s thought about it before - Ten feeling up Johnny’s thighs as Johnny feeds him his cock, or Ten taking control and pinning Johnny’s hips in place to slide down on his dick, smirking around the girth of it. It’s even easier to picture now, what Ten would look like with his lips wrapped around Johnny’s cock.

Ten must be able to read his thoughts, or at least guess where Johnny’s dirty mind has headed - because his grin sharpens as their eyes lock. Johnny swallows thickly; Ten’s cock bobs a little as he pants. A fat bead of precome is caught on the underside of the slick, swollen head.

And then - _fuck, fuck, fuck -_ Ten pushes up and opens his mouth, tongue out, and _licks his own cock._

Johnny nearly blacks out at the sight. What the _fuck,_ it’s so - impossibly hot, that Ten can even bend like this to get his mouth on himself, let alone -

Ten leans in - or down, Johnny doesn’t even know - and fits his lips around the whole head of his own cock, gaze locked on Johnny’s face.

“ _Fuck,”_ Johnny swears aloud, something like a plea. His dick throbs where it’s nestled against Ten’s ass, and Ten just grins around - grins around the _mouthful of his own cock_. “Ten, what the _fuck.”_

Ten blinks up at him, raising an eyebrow before he lets his dick fall out of his mouth with a wet _pop._ “What?”

“You - uh,” Johnny stutters. A fog has descended upon his brain - a horny, horny fog. Johnny can’t look away from Ten’s spit-slick mouth and the strand of precome that trails between Ten’s bottom lip and his cock. _Fuck._ “You can - that is, you’re bendy enough to -”

“To suck my own dick?” Ten mouths lazily at the crown, lips shiny as he smears them back and forth along the plush head of his cock _-_ all while giving Johnny a smile. “Mmm. It’s certainly easier like this, with a little help.”

Jesus _Christ._

“So you _have_ done it before,” Johnny asks, unable to help himself. He has to know - if Ten has gotten his mouth on his own cock before, curled in on himself impossibly far, stealing moments when he has his dorm room to himself. Or maybe discovering this before he’d ever been with anyone else, experimenting with what feels good and what it’s like to have the weight of a cock on your tongue -

“Wouldn’t you, if you could?” Ten gives him a cheshire-cat smirk. “Come on, Johnny. Of course I have.”

Johnny’s brain feels like it’s overheating - but maybe that’s just all of him ablaze at the thought of Ten sucking himself off. “And - what’s it like?”

“What do you _think_ it’s like?” Ten laughs, a little breathless because of his position. He laps at the head of his cock again, collecting the ooze of precome there and making a show of licking his lips, like he’s savoring the taste. Johnny doesn’t know what he did to deserve this kind of torture, but it’s enough to make him light-headed, dizzy with want. “It feels like getting head while you have a dick in your mouth - which is fine, if you like having a dick in your mouth. Which I do.”

Johnny makes a strangled groan that has Ten grinning. “I could - uh. I could tell.”

“Usually it’s too distracting to actually get off,” Ten continues, like they’re talking about anything _besides_ Ten bringing himself to orgasm with his own mouth, “but I can see that _you’re_ into it.”

_Shit_.

Johnny can’t even deny it; his dick twitches visibly as he grinds his hips into Ten’s ass, and Ten chuckles. There’s that dark, hot look in his eyes again, pupils blown so wide - the one that has Johnny’s belly squirming pleasantly, like something trapped.

He likes Ten like this, ready to call Johnny out on what makes him tick, on what makes him _hard,_ teasing like they always do with the added layer of intimacy. They really do know each other so well; Johnny shouldn’t be surprised that Ten can see through him in bed, too.

It’s another thing to hear the words out of Ten’s mouth, though.

A little shudder runs down Johnny’s spine and he licks his lips, trying to find the words. Ten lets him take a moment to think; his cock taps against his lips but he doesn’t make any moves that would be otherwise… _distracting._ Even though Johnny wants to see him part those pretty lips again, see the shape Ten’s mouth will make around the curved head of his cock -

“It’s not just that you can suck your own dick, or - or bend like this,” Johnny says, trying to ignore the clench in his belly; even saying the _words_ feels filthy, obscene. “Of course that’s hot, don’t get me wrong. But it’s also…”

Ten raises an eyebrow as Johnny trails off, face heating. His voice is low, when he urges Johnny on. “What else?”

“You look so good with a cock against your lips,” Johnny murmurs, hips starting to rock again of their own volition. “I can’t help but picture what you look like when you did this before, by yourself - or what it will look like when you finally put your mouth on me, Ten, when it’s _my_ cock against your tongue -”

“Fuck, _Johnny,”_ Ten groans, mouth dropping open as he swears. Precome dribbles from the tip of his cock, hanging precariously in front of his face. “You have no idea how much I want that, too.”

Johnny’s fingers flex against Ten’s legs, earning him a little gasp. “Yeah? You’ve thought about it?”

“ _Dreamt_ about it,” Ten admits; even though he’s curled so tight and pinned in place by the weight of Johnny’s body, he’s still doing his best to arch into the contact where Johnny’s cock ruts in the crease of his ass, barely catching on the rim of his hole. “What you’d look like, how big you’d feel in my mouth, how you’d taste -“

“ _Ten_ ,” Johnny can’t stop himself from bending over Ten, pushing forward to kiss him - or trying to, at least. Because even as Ten whines, squirms underneath him for it, Ten’s cock bobs between them, heavy and pink and still _dripping_ , so -

So Johnny kisses that instead.

Ten _keens_ when Johnny presses his mouth just below the head of Ten’s cock, kissing the sensitive spot just under the flared ridge. There’s no mistaking the way it throbs under Johnny’s lips, a twitch he soothes with his tongue. He’s so shiny and wet already from precome and spit, and Johnny makes a noise deep in his throat at the smell of him here, at the _taste._

“Johnny,” Ten sighs, and whines, and groans - a litany of his name that nearly makes Johnny dizzy. His name in Ten’s wrecked voice, as he licks over Ten’s cock. “Johnny, Johnny, _Johnny -”_

God, fuck, he’s so perfect. There are too many things that Johnny wants to do with Ten, and there’s no way they can do them all tonight - even with Ten’s mind-blowing acrobatic abilities.

Heh. But speaking of _blowing._

Johnny inhales deep, nosing along the line of Ten’s shaft and then tracing back up with the flat of his tongue, getting even slicker. Ten’s cock is musky, a little salty from the precome, mostly tastes like clean skin - but it’s _Ten,_ and that’s more than enough for Johnny.

The angle’s too weird to get much of his mouth around the head of Ten’s cock, as much as Johnny wants to take him deeper; his mouth waters just at the _thought_. His eyes flutter closed and he lets his senses narrow to Ten underneath him, the rapid drum of Ten’s heart that Johnny can feel everywhere they are pressed together, but especially _here._

The least he can do is this: Johnny turns his head to suck a bruise on Ten’s inner thigh, his pulse pounding when Ten moans, loud and thready at the end. His thighs tense under Johnny’s grip, and Johnny laves up the side of Ten’s cock, aiming for the crown.

Johnny expects the head of Ten’s cock to be plush-soft and blood-hot under his mouth - and oh, it is, perfect against his lips and tongue. He hums against it, savoring the feel of it, the _heat_ of it.

And then there’s something else soft and wet and hot against his lower lip. Johnny’s eyes fly open, because there’s no way that it’s - it’s -

It’s Ten’s lips, too, half-wrapped around the other side of his cock, brushing against Johnny’s as he kisses the rounded head, and _fucking Christ._

Johnny can’t look away, even as he goes a little cross-eyed. Ten’s mouth is _right there,_ the same pretty pink as the flushed head of his cock, tongue out as he plays with his own slit. He moans when Johnny smears their lips together as best he can, Ten’s cock trapped between their mouths like - _fuck._

This is the hottest blowjob Johnny has ever given in his _life._

He didn’t even know this was _possible_ outside of porn, and now this moment is going to be seared into his memory, painted on the inside of his eyelids for time immemorial. In the back of his brain Johnny knows he’s being a little dramatic, but shit - he feels drunk off this more than anything he’d had at the restaurant tonight, tipsy off their shared pleasure.

Well, he can check _make out around someone’s cock_ off his bucket list.

_God._ Johnny has barely gotten a hand on himself tonight and he can already feel the tell-tale tension in his lower belly, a clench of heat every time his lips touch Ten’s. The curl of Ten’s tongue around Johnny’s - fleeting, given their position - makes pleasure zip up Johnny’s spine, hot and electric.

It’s also _so_ fucking sloppy. Ten’s cock is dripping between them, fluid welling at the tip only to be caught by Johnny’s tongue - or Ten’s. Or both of them sliding together.

Johnny moans, finally reaching between them to fist Ten’s cock and tug it just out of the way so that he can nip at Ten’s swollen bottom lip, lick into Ten’s hot mouth. It’s filthy and _deep,_ leaving them panting in the scant space between them.

“So wet for me,” Johnny murmurs against Ten’s lips, and Ten whines, needy. When Johnny pulls back, Ten looks - christ, he looks well-fucked already, eyes glazed and face flushed dark. “Getting closer?”

Ten jerks his head in a quick nod, biting his lip to stifle the noises that don’t stop falling from his mouth. Johnny strokes Ten’s cock in a languid, rolling rhythm, in time with how he thrusts against Ten’s crease. “You better get something in me soon, Suh. You’re too good at this.”

“Me?” Johnny’s chuckle is breathless; he slides the tip of his nose against Ten’s, fond even as he savors the shudder that ripples through Ten when Johnny thumbs at the head of Ten’cock. “ _I’m_ not the one folded in half. God, look at you.”

Of course, Ten’s pouting a little when Johnny pulls away to drink him in, and he brings his heel down to tap Johnny’s shoulder impatiently. “Right. _You’re_ not the one folded in half. So get the lube.”

“Are you always going to be this bossy in bed?” Johnny rolls his eyes, planting a chaste kiss to Ten’s cheek before drawing back completely. He has to ease Ten down from his folded position to get to his bedside table; even with his _freakishly long arms,_ as Ten would say, Johnny can’t reach the drawer from the middle of the bed.

Ten sighs, taking the opportunity to stretch his legs and flex his toes in the duvet. His hair is wild against the nest of pillows he’s made, eyes glimmering as he watches Johnny root around in his drawer. “I don’t know, Johnny, are you always going to be this fun to tease?”

“You already know the answer to that,” Johnny says; they both know that Ten has enjoyed getting a rise out of him since they met as teenagers. The only thing that’s new is that it’s happening when they’re both naked.

Johnny swallows when he looks over his shoulder, trying not to get distracted from his quest for lube. Ten looks like he _belongs_ in Johnny’s bed, comfortable and warm and unashamed. He practically glows in the soft light, eyes half-lidded, observing Johnny with something like fond impatience.

He’s - it’s a _lot,_ and it makes Johnny’s heart swell in his chest.

And what does it say about Johnny, that the sight of Ten like this sets his belly fluttering even more than seeing Ten with his legs over his head?

But Johnny’s fingers skim over the lube before his brain tumbles too far down the rabbit hole of his feelings, and he snags it out of the drawer with a noise of triumph. Ten grins, wriggling in place to get comfortable, his gaze undeniably bright with anticipation.

And maybe a little predatory. Johnny shivers, even though the air is starting to get stuffy from their… activities.

“How do you want it?” Johnny asks, popping the cap as he settles back between Ten’s knees. The lube is cold against his fingers, so he glances up to Ten as he waits for it to warm - and finds Ten staring down the length of his body, eyes glued to Johnny’s hands.

Johnny raises an eyebrow, amused. “Ten?”

Ten’s lashes flutter as he meets Johnny’s gaze, lip caught between his teeth. He’s planted his feet flat on the bed, ankles pulled back nearly to the plush curve of his ass. He smirks, rolling his hips against the bed - like he’s _enjoying_ how much he’s on display, how easy it is for Johnny’s eyes to get stuck on the slope of his shoulders, the arch of his hip, the muscle of his thighs.

And his cock, of course. And the shiny-wet curves of Ten’s ass where Johnny rutted against him, leaving messy streaks of precome. _Goddamn._

Ten has no reason to look so smug when he catches Johnny staring - as if Ten himself wasn’t also just totally entranced at the sight of Johnny’s slicked-up fingers. Tension coils in Johnny’s stomach at the thought that - that Ten’s been imagining what this would be like, too.

_Fuck._ If Ten has been imagining this, _hoping_ for this, as long as Johnny has -

Well. Johnny’s all the more determined to rock Ten’s world tonight.

“I’m sure you know how to make a boy feel good,” Ten purrs, combing his damp bangs away from his face. It’s a move Johnny has seen a hundred times before, at dance practices and during concerts and in music videos - and it’s _unfairly_ hot in this context, too.

“Sure, but -” Johnny leans in to kiss the inside of Ten’s knee, “I want to make _you_ feel good.”

“You will,” Ten murmurs, voice husky. He breaks Johnny’s gaze to glance down at his fingers again, eyes dark. A smile plays at the corner of his mouth. “You already _have._ So come on - make me feel _good.”_

And oh, Johnny intends to do just that.

The lube has started to drip down his fingers, but at least it’s warm; Johnny watches Ten’s face as he trails his slick fingertips down Ten’s skin to the pucker of his hole. It nearly knocks the breath out of him, to hear the little gasp Ten makes at the first touch, the whine that builds in his throat as Johnny circles his rim, spreading the lube and getting him nice and wet.

“Now who’s being a tease,” Ten says, his chuckle interrupted by a stifled gasp. His thighs clench on either side of Johnny’s as he rocks his hips, seeking more. “Do you need a written invi- _oh.”_

Johnny hides his smile against Ten’s knee. He’s careful - he _knows_ he’s a big dude, and by extension, so are his hands - because even slicked up, Johnny knows it’s gonna be a stretch. He presses in gently, just up to the knuckle, letting Ten adjust to the sensation.

“Fuuuuck,” Ten exhales, drawing out the syllable. Heat washes over Johnny’s skin as Ten grinds back experimentally, trying to get more of Johnny’s finger in him.

“Fuck,” Johnny agrees, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth - but only a second later he’s sucking in a breath when Ten manages to get the leverage he wants, working Johnny’s finger deeper by changing the angle. “Jesus, okay, just let me -”

Ten’s back arches as he claws at the sheets, and he shoots Johnny a cocky smirk. “I’m not gonna _break,_ Johnny.”

“Yeah, but I’m not… small,” Johnny clears his throat; sure, it’s a fact, but it still makes warmth rush to his cheeks.

“Mm, and I’m _into_ it,” Ten says, grinning down at Johnny. Between the skilled swivel of Ten’s hips and Johnny’s steady hand, they’ve started a slow-rolling rhythm in and out, slick with lube. “Do you know how many times you’ve almost caught me looking at your hands? Gimme another one.”

_God._ Johnny’s tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth as he tries to process _that_ new information - but he covers his lust-induced dizziness by squeezing more lube onto his fingers, slotting a second finger alongside the first in the tight clutch of Ten’s body.

And _fuck,_ he is tight. The heat of him is unreal - Ten groans at the stretch but doesn’t still his hips, seeking out pleasure on Johnny’s fingers.

Johnny scissors a little when Ten seems ready for it - monitoring every tiny twitch of Ten’s face, the flutter of his eyelashes. He’s all velvet-wet heat, slick against Johnny’s fingertips.

The feel of him is _intoxicating._

Johnny could watch Ten take his fingers all night - and enjoy it just as much as the sight of Ten lapping at the head of his own cock. He’s beautiful covered in a thin sheen of sweat, tattoos dark against his flushed skin. And lower, where Johnny’s long fingers disappear into Ten’s body, engulfed in that dizzying grip -

He’s mesmerized by the sight. Johnny’s vaguely aware that he’s probably drooling, but he’s not gonna take his hands off Ten’s body to check.

It’s not long before Ten has adjusted to two, and Johnny ignores the twinge in his wrist to match his rhythm, pistoning in and out. The muscles in Ten’s thigh twitch on a particularly strong thrust; Johnny chuckles at the stuttered moan that trips out of Ten’s mouth, at the flustered glare he gets in return.

“Sorry,” Johnny says, smiling. Really, he’s not very sorry at all. “You _did_ tell me to make you feel good.”

Ten somehow still has the capacity to roll his eyes, even with how hard Johnny’s fingering him. It doesn’t escape Johnny’s notice, though, how Ten’s cock throbs and leaks a little more precome at his words. “You can be smug _after_ you’ve made me come my brains out.”

Johnny laughs, breath hitching partway through as Ten clenches down on his fingers, a hot vice-grip that immediately derails his comeback. _Christ._

But Johnny knows what he needs to do: he curls his fingers on Ten’s next downward rock, letting the pads graze along Ten’s inner walls. He presses upwards, gently seeking - and two thrusts later Ten _jolts._

“ _Fuck_!”

Yeah, _there_ it is.

Ten moans aloud, cock jumping in the shiny pool of precome slicking his belly. His ribs contract and expand with every gulp of air he takes, a low whine building in his throat as Johnny keeps his fingers right there, rubbing that little bundle of nerves inside Ten on every stroke.

He’s so fucking gorgeous.

“Yeah, baby?” Johnny murmurs, leaving a string of kisses down from Ten’s knee to his inner thigh, settling on his belly so that he can exhale warm over Ten’s neglected cock. “You gonna come for me?”

Ten’s eyes are glassy and dark under the messy fringe of his bangs - that is, when they’re not screwed up in pleasure. His Adam's apple bobs when he swallows down another groan, his body rippling and clenching around Johnny’s fingers.

“I will if you keep talking like that,” Ten pants, still doing his best to meet Johnny thrust for thrust. “ _Fuck,_ Johnny -”

Johnny presses a kiss to the arch of Ten’s hip, hot and damp and open-mouthed. He finds Ten watching him when he looks up to meet Ten’s eyes. “Tell me what you need.”

“O-one more,” Ten stutters, tongue peeking out as he licks his lips. His flush has worked its way down his neck and collarbones, pretty pink all the way to the top of his chest.

Of course Johnny’s going to give Ten what he wants.

Three is a stretch - even with a final squirt of lube, the girth of Johnny’s fingers looks _obscene_ as he fits them against Ten’s rim and slides home. Ten’s sigh turns into a whimper as he wriggles in place, a shudder running down his body as it adjusts to the push and pull of Johnny’s fingers.

And three of Johnny’s fingers are still smaller than Johnny’s cock _._ Heat licks down Johnny’s spine; in his mind’s eye it’s all too easy to replace his fingers with his cock, imagine Ten’s snug heat surrounding him and pulling him in, just like he is now.

Johnny wants _everything_ with Ten - what they’ve done tonight already a thousand times more, and a thousand other things.

Anything he can do to make Ten feel good. Anything that earns him the smile he’s fallen in love with.

Tonight, it’s this:

Ten takes him so well, already rolling his hips to drive Johnny’s fingers deeper, trying to control the rhythm. The slick, wet sounds they make together are audible even over the noises that slip from Ten’s mouth, the swears and moans and pleas that are all Johnny’s name.

“So good for me,” Johnny says, coaxing another groan from Ten’s lips. “Does it feel as good as it looks, Ten? Having me inside you?”

“Fucking -” Ten breaks off to moan, scrabbling for any part of Johnny he can reach as Johnny twists his wrist just so, curls his fingers to unerringly find that spot inside of Ten again. He laughs, breathless. “ _Fuck,_ you can’t expect me to - ah, _there!_ Hold a conversation like this, Johnny.”

To be fair, Ten’s doing an admirable job. Johnny’s not sure he’d be able to put more than three words in a row if their positions were reversed.

And isn’t _that_ a thought to file away for another time.

“I dunno,” Johnny grins against the overheated skin of Ten’s thigh; Ten’s cute when he’s flustered like this. Not that Johnny can get away with saying it right now. “If you can form sentences, I’m not sure I’m doing my job right.”

“Screw _talking,”_ Ten threads his hand in Johnny’s hair, gently scratching his nails along Johnny’s scalp. He shoots Johnny a smile, gaze hot as he grinds down on Johnny’s fingers faster and faster. “Get up here and kiss me again already.”

“Oh, if you want me to put my mouth to good use, I can think of something better than _that,”_ Johnny replies with a chuckle. Ten’s eyes dilate, wide and dark.

It’s a little uncoordinated, admittedly. He pulls his slick fingers out of Ten, despite the noise of complaint Ten makes - but then Johnny gets his hands under Ten’s firm calves and lifts, depositing Ten’s legs over his shoulders and slotting himself even closer. Like this, Ten’s knees bracket either side of Johnny's head - not a bad place to be, in Johnny’s personal opinion - and he’s laid out before Johnny like a meal.

That’s more or less exactly what Johnny plans to make of him, too.

Ten mouth drops open as Johnny slides his fingers deep again in one seamless thrust, sinking into the heat of him so easily now that Ten’s stretched and pliant. Johnny’s heart stutters; to feel Ten from the inside, how every thrust hits just the right spot, the way Ten clenches around him and quivers through his pleasure - _god._

Johnny shakes his hair out of his eyes as he watches for a few thrusts, unable to stop himself from rutting into the mattress to get a little friction. Ten’s rim is puffy and pink from Johnny’s ministrations, and he gasps when Johnny traces his thumb along the seam where his fingers thrust into Ten.

He’d like to get a taste of Ten there, too.

But he’s getting distracted. Johnny leans closer and breathes Ten in, nosing up the vein on the underside of his shaft. Ten’s scent is undeniably masculine, musk and sweat and skin, and he’s still damp-slick from their combined mouths. The head of his cock is shiny with precome, ruddy pink and curved in towards his heaving belly as Ten pants, unable to keep still.

He knows exactly what he wants to do.

Johnny crooks his fingers inside Ten in time with lapping the thick bead of precome at his slit, and then without warning, swallows Ten down in one go.

Ten wails like the air is punched out of his lungs, a groan that goes high towards the end as Johnny sucks, cheeks hollowing around Ten’s cock. He tastes so _good,_ precome coating the inside of Johnny’s mouth - it’s been a long time since Johnny’s done this but he loves everything about it, every sensation. He drops his jaw to sink a little deeper, loving the way the head of Ten’s cock nudges at his palate and how he can _feel_ the throb of Ten’s pulse.

And oh, he’s a perfect weight against Johnny’s tongue - as hot as it had been to lick at Ten’s cock together, Johnny hadn’t been able to really get Ten in his mouth like this.

But it’s worth the wait for how _responsive_ Ten is underneath him.

“Johnny,” Ten moans, thighs clenching and releasing on either side of Johnny, as if his body can’t decide if it wants to ride Johnny’s fingers or thrust into the heat of his mouth. “God, how are you so - _fuck.”_

Johnny smiles where his lips are stretched around Ten’s cock, looking up at Ten with half-lidded eyes. The hand in his hair doesn’t tug - Ten just pushes Johnny’s bangs away from his face so that he can keep their gazes locked.

So he can _watch_ his cock disappear between Johnny’s lips.

Johnny must know what he looks like, has been told before that his lips are made to suck cock, but _fuck._ The thought makes Johnny’s fingers flex against Ten’s skin, where he’s wrapped a hand around the outside of Ten’s propped-up thigh. Ten’s really enjoying this, too. Ten wants to _see_ him _._

It’s only tonight that Johnny’s seriously entertained the thought that maybe Ten feels the same - and sure, people can say things during sex they don’t really mean, but there’s no denying the evidence spread out before him.

And he really has Ten _spread._

It’s in the way Ten’s gaze keeps catching on his mouth, the clutch of his body around Johnny’s fingers, the hitch and whine of his breath. There’s no faking the kind of tremors that have Ten’s thighs twitching, out of his control, an instinctive reaction when Johnny rubs perfectly over the spot inside of him.

No, not even instinct - pure _reaction_ as he coaxes pleasure out of Ten’s body, sets his nerves alight like a closed circuit. He’s so beautiful as Johnny works him closer and closer to the edge; Ten is a writhing, panting, leaking mess with just enough presence of mind to keep chanting Johnny’s name.

And, fuck - he still manages to grin at Johnny, heat blazing in his eyes, when he notices that Johnny can’t pull his gaze away, either.

Johnny moans around Ten’s cock, relishing the shudder of Ten all around him as he does. They’ve worked up a heady pace, Ten rocking back on Johnny’s fingers even as Johnny chases him with his mouth. But it works; he can tell from the fresh flood of precome in his mouth and the flutter of Ten’s rim that he’s getting close.

As if this wasn’t already wet enough from how much Johnny’s drooling.

Ten’s gone more or less wordless, besides Johnny’s name - though he hasn’t stopped making noise this entire time. God, it’s like music to Johnny’s ears, to know that he’s bringing Ten so much pleasure, making him feel so _good._

And seeing Ten like this is doing _so_ much for Johnny, too.

He’s always thought of himself as a giving lover, getting pleasure from making his partners feel good. With Ten, it’s like that has been magnified, multiplied a hundred times over. Because it’s _Ten._ Johnny is set aflame by the hope burning in his chest, a fire fed by the stockpiled kindling of what he feels for Ten. What he’s _felt_ for Ten, for so long.

More than the sex - which is searingly hot, don’t get him wrong - the thing that makes Johnny dizzy is that echo in his ears: _maybe I want something to change._

Admittedly, Johnny doesn’t have the presence of mind to think too hard about it - not when all of his attention is on this: pistoning his fingers in and out of Ten’s slick hole, fingers curled perfectly so that they rub Ten’s prostate on every thrust, doing his level best to pay enough attention to the cock in his mouth as he sucks Ten down.

Yeah, it’s a lot - and Johnny is _so_ into this. He’s so into _Ten_.

Johnny can’t help but rut against the sheets, gone a little slick-tacky where his cock is trapped underneath him. It’s not going to take much to get him over the edge, once Ten comes. Just the _thought_ of Ten shaking apart is enough to make the tension wind tighter in Johnny’s belly.

Yeah, it’s really not gonna take much.

He pulls away from Ten’s cock with an obscene _pop,_ smearing his lips down the crease between Ten’s hip and leg, sucking a hickey into his inner thigh. God, he’s so _wet._ “Close?”

“Fuck, _Johnny,”_ Ten’s mouth drops open in a full-throated moan in response. His fingers clench in Johnny’s hair - not enough to sting, but enough to keep Johnny anchored despite the rapid drum of his heartbeat. Everywhere they touch feels blood-hot, thrumming. “Let me - make me -”

“Yeah, baby, c’mon,” Johnny says, laving up the length of Ten’s twitching cock, swirling his tongue around the plush head. His own voice sounds _wrecked,_ sex-rough and deeper than usual. “I got you, come on, _Ten._ ”

Johnny gives Ten’s thigh a final squeeze before he shifts his weight forward, bars his forearm across Ten’s rocking hips to swallow him down once more. Fuck, he can _feel_ the throb of Ten’s cock in his mouth as Ten moans, wanton, back arching even though Johnny has him pinned in place.

This is - he’s so _gorgeous,_ hurtling towards orgasm, painted with a full-body flush and mouth slack with pleasure. Johnny would take any opportunity to watch Ten, but like this he’s a _vision._

And selfishly, Johnny wants to keep this version of Ten just to himself.

A tremor builds in Ten’s body just as Johnny’s jaw begins to ache, starting in Ten’s thighs and working its way to his core. His hole twitches in time with each thrust - _fuck_ , the feel of him like this makes Johnny dizzy with want - and he redoubles his efforts. His nostrils flare as he sinks down as far as he can on Ten’s cock, letting the tip nudge at the back of his throat before swallowing around it, once, twice -

Ten _shouts_ as he comes, a whine that builds deep in his throat and becomes Johnny’s name. His back arches off the bed, belly flexing under Johnny’s arm as he spills into Johnny’s mouth - fuck, Ten is _coming in his mouth._

It should be gross - okay, it _is_ a little gross - but mostly it’s filthy and dirty and _hot,_ and Johnny can feel himself throb in response.

Johnny swallows around Ten as best he can, milking Ten’s orgasm as he rides out the high. Ten’s hole clenches greedily around his fingers and Johnny doesn’t stop his pace there, either - not until Ten starts to squirm, over-sensitive and tender.

And still - he can’t resist giving Ten a few more languid thrusts, letting his fingers stay snug inside the wet heat of him as Ten slowly comes back to awareness, collapsing back against the mattress like his bones have liquified.

“Mmm,” Ten hums, rolling his hips slowly, one more time as Johnny lets Ten’s cock slip out of his mouth and carefully withdraws his fingers. “See - ah! You _are_ a tease.”

Johnny clears his throat, lifting his forearm from Ten’s hips so that he can wipe the back of his hand across his mouth. He must look _obscene,_ lips puffy and come-smeared, shiny with slick all the way down to his chin.

At least - that’s what Ten’s gaze catches on, when he finally blinks his eyes open again and smirks down at Johnny, breathless. Johnny’s helpless to the way his heart trips in his chest.

“What can I say? You bring out the best in me,” Johnny smiles - and amazingly, despite everything, Ten has it in him to blush.

But then he sighs, stretching his arms over his head and squeezing Johnny’s chest with his thighs, keeping him close. When Ten smiles, it lights up his whole face - even this sweaty, hair sex-mussed beyond redemption, Ten is downright beautiful.

Johnny’s always thought so. This is no different than - uh. Well. This is only different because the sex part is new; they’re both long-accustomed to sharing their most vulnerable parts with each other.

Maybe ending up here is something like fate.

“Baby,” Ten says, petting idly through Johnny’s hair, his fingertips slipping down the planes of Johnny’s face to thumb at the corner of his lips. “So _good_ to me.”

A shiver runs across Johnny’s skin, at the combination of the pet name and the gentle touch. His need hadn’t been pressing before - but now Johnny is achingly, achingly aware of the fact that he hasn’t come yet.

He’ll take Ten’s hands on him in any way that he can get. But first -

“You deserve it,” Johnny says hoarsely, kissing the tip of Ten’s thumb and then the soft skin at the inside of his knee. Ten’s eyes darken when Johnny opens his mouth to suck, leaving a mark that will surely redden and bruise against Ten’s tanned skin.

It’s one of half a dozen marks Johnny has left on him tonight, scattered across Ten’s thighs - and a few reddening ones on Ten’s neck, oops - but at least here there’s a chance they’ll stay hidden, secret.

Just for Johnny and Ten to know, and no one else.

“You’re going to spoil me like this,” Ten warns, his smirk going soft. He parts his legs wider so that his knees fall from Johnny’s shoulders, making a soft noise in his throat at the stretch when his feet hit the sheets. “You’ll ruin me for anyone else.”

“Good,” Johnny murmurs before his brain catches up with his mouth - because Ten _does_ look a little ruined, wrecked in the most beautiful of ways, and he wants to always be the one to make Ten look like this. Not that, uh - not that he has any right to be possessive over Ten. Yet. “I mean -”

The ball of Ten’s right foot digs into his ribs, and when Johnny focuses on Ten’s face again, there’s a grin tugging at the corner of Ten’s lips. “Don’t you dare take that back, Johnny Suh.”

Johnny’s breath hitches in his chest. “Ten -”

“No,” Ten says firmly, but then his voice goes soft. “I know you meant it, so don’t take it back. Besides - we can talk later. It’s _your_ turn now.”

Johnny barely has time to process the mischievous gleam in Ten’s eyes before Ten’s legs are locking around his ribs and he’s flipped flat on his back. Ten grins down at him from his new perch in Johnny’s lap, looking ridiculously proud of himself.

To be fair, Johnny’s pretty impressed, too. And even more turned on.

“Oof,” Johnny says, a little belated - mostly from surprise. “Was that really necessary?”

“Yes,” Ten rolls his eyes, exasperated but fond. He wiggles, settling his weight on Johnny’s thighs - and even that’s enough to have Johnny gasping at the feel of Ten’s bare skin. “Let me make you feel good, too.”

Johnny swallows; he’s not going to say no to that.

His hands come to settle on Ten’s hips in a way that just feels natural, _right_. Ten grins down at him, leaning in and draping himself along Johnny’s chest, warm to the touch. Johnny’s stomach swoops as Ten brushes their noses together, unbearably tender. It’s something unspoken and soft and perfect - and then both of them move to close the space between them, to meet in the middle with a kiss.

Ten kisses with his whole body; he sighs into it, opening his mouth for Johnny to explore. He’s not content just to lazily make out, even though he’s already gotten off - oh, no. Ten curls their tongues together and presses even closer, catching Johnny’s lower lip gently between his teeth. Johnny gasps; Ten grins into the kiss, delighted by the sound.

And all the while his hands move, mapping the contours of Johnny’s shoulders and chest, finding all the places that make him whine and twitch and groan. Johnny’s dizzy with it, trying to keep up but growing clumsy and desperate with want.

_Jesus._ How has Ten gotten his coordination back after coming as hard as he did?

Johnny huffs, smiling into the kiss at the thought. He should know better than to underestimate Ten - especially when he’s got an idea.

And apparently, Ten’s current idea is to lay Johnny flat on his back and give as good as he’d gotten.

Not that it’s going to take much, though; Johnny’s already so strung out and ready for it after watching Ten fall apart underneath him - and now, with Ten on top of him, clever fingers reaching down and circling Johnny’s dick -

“ _Fuck,_ Ten,” Johnny mumbles against Ten’s lips, breaking to pant against Ten’s cheek. Ten doesn’t let up, licking into his mouth in time with languid pulls on Johnny’s cock, adding a little twist to his wrist that drives Johnny _crazy._

It’s _unfair_ that Ten has already managed to figure out exactly how Johnny likes to be touched, exactly what he needs.

“Like that?” Ten chuckles, sounding nearly as breathless as Johnny feels, head clouded with need. Heat flares up Johnny’s spine when Ten glances down between them, taking a shaky breath at the sight of his hand wrapped around Johnny’s cock - Ten’s fingers don’t quite meet around the girth of him. “Fuck, you’re so big. I could feel it before, but to finally see you - god, I can’t wait to get my mouth around you. ”

Johnny groans, hips jerking and cock twitching at Ten’s words. “Shit, Ten - you can’t _say_ things like that -”

Ten’s tongue peeks out from between his lips as he looks up again, meeting Johnny’s gaze. “What, that I want you? It’s the truth.”

“ _Ten -”_

“I told you - I want something between us to change,” Ten says, leaning in. There’s barely room between them for his hand to move but he works over Johnny at a maddening pace, thumbing over the slit. His eyelashes brush Johnny’s cheek - and somehow, that’s as intimate as any of this has been. “Maybe I want you. Maybe I want _us.”_

Johnny closes the gap between them and locks their lips together, his heart thundering in his ears at Ten's admission, the slide of Ten's hand on his cock, _Ten Ten Ten._

Ten, who smirks into the kiss when Johnny gasps; Ten, who covers Johnny with his body and presses every inch of them together, shoulder to shin; Ten, who says things like _we could, you know,_ and _maybe I want us_ -

God, Johnny's so in love with him.

It's that thought, resonant deep in his chest, that has Johnny finally tipping over the edge and spilling in Ten's hand.

Ten kisses him through it as Johnny shakes apart, swallowing his desperate moans. Fuck, it’s like - Johnny feels it down to his _toes,_ a bone-deep wave of pleasure that surges through his entire body. He feels over-hot everywhere they’re touching, vaguely aware that he’s shuddering underneath Ten, muscles locked as he spurts between their bellies.

Maybe he whites out a little. Johnny’s dizzy with it, eyes screwed shut as he gives himself over to pleasure under Ten’s skilled hands.

_Fuck,_ Johnny hasn’t come this hard in… ever. Ten’s gonna be a smug little shit, when Johnny gains the capacity for human speech again.

But for now Ten’s lips are gentle, even though he doesn’t let up the heady pace on Johnny’s cock until Johnny is whining and wrung dry. Johnny circles his fingers around Ten’s wrist to pull his hand away, barely thinking before he tugs it all the way up, leaving a damp kiss at Ten’s pulse point.

Above him, Ten’s heart kicks in his chest. Johnny can feel it, they’re pressed so close. And he may still be come-dumb and floating down from the high, but Johnny smiles, blinking his eyes open to look up at Ten.

Ten’s beaming down at him, lower lip caught between his teeth. He looks as wrecked as Johnny feels, dark hair in disarray from his own fingers and their changed positions. Johnny kisses the fluttering veins of Ten’s wrist again just to feel his breath hitch.

He grins against Ten’s skin. Ten said that he wanted something between them to change; from the stirring in Johnny’s heart, it feels like something fledgling-new and achingly familiar at the same time.

“Hi,” Johnny says softly, breaking out into a full smile. “Hello. Wow.”

“Wow yourself,” Ten laughs, twisting his hand in Johnny’s grip to lace their fingers together. _Oh._ That’s even better, if a little sticky. “So that's what makes you nut, huh - _romance."_

Johnny rolls his eyes at Ten’s impish expression; he’s never gonna live this down, is he? But, actually - maybe he’s okay with that, if the one who’s always teasing him is Ten.

"Maybe my kink is just you,” Johnny says, fitting his other hand to Ten’s hip and petting up and down the bare skin of his flank. Ten melts at the contact, slumping further against Johnny’s chest with a contented sigh that’s nearly a purr. “Bent in half or not.”

Ten huffs a laugh. “But not _not_ bent in half.”

“I mean,” Johnny says, distracted by the fact that he can feel Ten’s grin pressed into the skin at his collarbones. “That probably says just as much about me as it does about you.”

“Mmm,” Ten hums, thoughtful - but he still smiles against Johnny’s skin, wriggling to get more comfortable on top of him. The tip of his nose drags against Johnny’s neck, and Johnny’s heart trips against his ribs again.

Like this, chest-to-chest, Ten can probably feel it.

The mess of Johnny’s come on his belly might fuse them together if they don’t clean up soon, but Ten doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Which - good. Johnny’s always been a fan of post-coital cuddles. And he flatters himself that he’s pretty good at it, too.

Not to mention how perfect Ten feels against him, in Johnny’s arms.

"There's a better four-letter word for that than kink," Ten murmurs, sitting up so that he can meet Johnny’s gaze. His eyes are warm and fond - but Johnny can sense the thread of hesitancy in his words. “But we can work up to it. The other four-letter word.”

_Oh._

So maybe his feelings for Ten haven’t been that subtle after all. But Ten is right there with him. Right _here_ with him. They can figure out the words later.

Four-letter words besides _kink._ And maybe words longer than that, like - like _boyfriend._

“Yeah,” Johnny smiles, aware that heat is flooding his face - but this time, weirdly, he kind of enjoys it. “You’re stuck with me now, Ten.”

“I’ve been stuck with you for years,” Ten snorts, but he doesn’t stop smiling. He squeezes Johnny’s hand in his. “But there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

_Fuck._ And Johnny thought that _he’d_ be the cheesy one in this relationship.

He can’t help but tug Ten down for another kiss at that. Maybe two more kisses. Maybe three. Ten snickers, grinning against Johnny’s lips, and he kind of loses count after that.

It feels like the ground has shifted underneath Johnny, something monumental and world-shaking, but it’s still just Ten. Just the two of them. For every moment that has been new tonight, Johnny’s been reminded of how little really has changed. They’re still going to tease each other and go on late-night snack runs and make each other laugh.

Johnny will just get to kiss during all those moments, too.

At some point they’ll have to get up - at least to unglue themselves and shower - and after that, who knows. They’ll have to talk, see where this tender, new thing takes them. But all that comes later.

Right now, Johnny has Ten in his arms, Ten’s lips against his - and he’s perfectly happy with the position they’re in.

**Author's Note:**

> Johnny: Ten, I am just totally... in kink with you  
> Ten: Say love, you coward, we already established that you nut to romance
> 
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